Sparkling stones

“The Necklace” by Guy de Maupassant tells the story of a beautiful woman born into a poor family. She marries a low-level government clerk. She is very vain and wants to look elegant, so she borrows a necklace from a friend to wear to a fancy party. But she loses the necklace. To buy a replacement, she and her husband work very hard and live a miserable life for over ten years. Later, she finds out the original necklace was fake.

Since I read this story as a child, I always feel uncomfortable when I see diamonds. I remember that sad story hiding behind their sparkle.

Also, I remember a time when I didn’t know much about diamond sizes. My mother gave her daughter-in-law a diamond ring as a wedding gift. Later, my one's-in-law checked the ring and said the size was smaller than my mother had said. They argued over it. That made me dislike diamonds even more.

I didn’t even get a cheap wedding ring from my husband. At that time, he couldn’t even afford to buy food every day. A diamond ring was like a from a faraway land.

Actually, diamonds are not rare. They are expensive because companies limit how many diamonds are sold. People say you should spend at least two months’ salary on an engagement ring. I don’t know who made that rule, but it was probably a marketing team trying to make more money. Because of that, the shiny stone never attracted me.

I’d rather have something else: when I don’t feel like cooking, my husband brings dinner from K-town. That is better than a diamond ring.

A long time ago, hunters came home with meat for their hungry families. Now, my husband comes home with bags of groceries. He puts them down with a thud. I smile and open the bag at the table. Inside, there’s seolleongtang (ox bone soup), bindaetteok (mung bean pancake), cheonggukjang (fermented soybean stew), and grilled mackerel. He say, 

“We can eat the cheonggukjang tomorrow.” 

I feel so thankful when he says that—because it means I don’t need to cook tomorrow.

Every two weeks, on Saturday—the day my article appears in the newspaper—my husband goes to K-town. He buys the newspaper and brings back Korean food. Normally, he just scrolls through the news online. But on the day my writing is published, he reads the paper carefully.

“I’ll bring food more often. Eat well,” he says. “We don’t use MSG at home, but sometimes you need a little to sleep better.”

He smiles as he places a big, crispy piece of grilled mackerel on top of my rice.

5분이냐? 50년이냐?

 어릴 적 ‘5분 먼저 가려다가 50년 먼저 간다.’라는 포스터를 봤다. 기가 막힌 아이디어다. 포스터를 상기시키며 서두르지 않고 조심 소심 살았다. 

 아침 산책길에 검은 개가 짖으며 물려고 했다. 주위를 둘러보며 개 주인을 찾았다. 개 주인은 떨어진 곳에서 ‘개야 물어라.’ 하는 태도로 놀라는 나를 보며 즐기고 있었다. 

“네 개가 나를 물려고 하는데 개를 부르지 않고 뭐하냐?” 

“선글라스에 마스크와 모자를 쓴 너의 이상한 모습을 보고 개가 놀라서 짖는 거야.” 

오히려 개새끼 걱정을 하는 데야 어처구니가 없었다. 특히나 비 오는 날 우비에 장화를 신고 나가면 개들이 쫓아 와서 짖는다. 개들도 주인을 똑 닮아 못된 주인이 키운 개는 사납게 짖으며 달려든다. 개가 가까이 와서 인사하듯 빤히 쳐다보는 착한 개 주인은 ‘미안하다.’며 사과하는 심성이 고운 사람이다. 우울증 주인 개 또한 우울증인지 다른 개하고는 어울리지 못하고 혼자 배회한다. 

 개에게 물리지 않으려면 주머니에 먹을 것을 넣고 다니다가 달려들려는 개를 멀리 쫓기 위해 던져줄까 궁리했다. 다 귀찮아서 개 줄을 해야만 하는 오전 9시 이후로 산책 시간을 바꿨다. 

 산책하며 개에게 시달리던 내가 이제는 인간에게 시달려야 한다니! 동양인 노약자를 겨냥해 발길로 걷어차는 데야 어찌 방어할 수 있단 말인가. 호루라기를 가지고 다녀라. 페퍼 스프레이를 뿌리라고 하지만 갑자기 호루라기 불 틈이, 스프레이를 꺼내 뿌릴 틈이 없을 것 같다. 나이 들어 제 몸 추스르기도 예전 같지 않은데 갑자기 얻어맞아 널브러지면 비상 도구들을 과연 써먹을 수 있을까? 더욱 황당하고 섬뜩한 것은 주위 사람들이 구경만 하고 도와주지 않는다는 것이다. 

 떨어진 나무토막들을 눈여겨보며 저것이라도 들어 싸워볼까? 생각하다가 길가다 걷어채이는 것이 비바람에 떨어지는 나무토막에 맞을 확률인데 너무 겁먹지 말자. 일단 눈을 마주치지 말고 길을 양보한다. 앞뒤 좌우를 살피며 빨리 걷다가 불길한 느낌이 들면 다른 길로 간다. 남녀노소 가릴 것 없이 나를 향해 누군가가 가까이 다가오면 피한다. 사람들이 걷기 불편해서 잘 다니지 않는 길로 걷는다. 미친 사람처럼 소리 질러 상대가 주춤할 때 뛰어 도망간다. 별별 살아남을 궁리를 하느라 머리가 복잡하다. 사색 없는 산책이 되어버렸다. 

 이제는 시간에 쫓기고 싶지 않다. 물론 사람들에게도 쫓기고 싶지 않다. 천천히 움직이며 절대로 서두르지 말자. 건널목에 파란불이 켜질 때까지 마냥 기다리자. 떠나려는 지하철을 급히 잡아타지 말자. 순간을 아끼려다 영원함을 잃지 않으려고 다짐하며 우아하게 행동하려고 노력했다. 그런데 갑자기 웬 동양인 인종차별 날벼락을 맞은 건지. 이렇게 눈치 보며 걷다가 습관이 몸에 밸까 걱정이다.

Is it 5 minutes or 50 years?

When I was a child, I saw a poster saying 'trying to go five minutes quickly, then going 50 years early.' That's a great idea. Reminding the poster, I lived cautiously and timidly without rushing. 

 On the morning promenade, a black dog barked and was trying to bite me. I looked around and find the owner of the dog who was enjoying watching me who is in astonishment from a distance. 

“Your dog is about to bite me, but what are you doing without calling your dog?” 

“My dog barks in amazement when he sees the strange appearance of you wearing sunglasses, a mask, and a hat.” 

On the contrary, it is ridiculous to worry about the dog. Especially on rainy days, when I wear boots in my raincoat, dogs come after me and bark. Dogs resemble their owners, so a dog raised by a bad owner barks fiercely. The owner of the good dog, who comes close and stares at me as if he were greeting me, is a kind-hearted person who apologizes, saying, "I'm sorry." The depressed owner's dog also wanders alone, unable to get along with other dogs whether he is depressed. 

In order not to be bitten by a dog, I thought about carrying food in my pocket and throwing it to the dog trying to bite me. it was bothersome. I changed the walking time after 9 am when people have to leash up dogs. 

 I used to suffer from dogs while walking, but now I have to suffer from humans! How can I defend myself when someone kicks me. People say to carry a whistle and pepper spray, but there seems to be no time to take out the spray and blow the whistle. If I am suddenly beaten, can I really use emergency tools? What's even more embarrassing and creepy is that the people around just watch and don't help. 

 Getting beaten up on the street is a chance of being hit by a piece of wood falling in the rain and wind. let's not be too scared. First, give way without making eye contact. Walk fast, looking back and forth, and if I feel ominous, go another road. Regardless of whether men or women of all ages, avoid it if someone comes close to me. I walk on the road that people don't walk. Scream like a crazy person and run away when the opponent falters. I walk with a lot of thoughts to survive. It became a thoughtless walk. 

 I don't want to be chased by time anymore. Of course, I don't want to be chased by people either. Move slowly and never rush. Let's wait until the blue light turns on at the crossing. Don't rush to catch the subway that is about to leave. I tried to let go of the moment and act gracefully, determined not to lose eternity. But, why do I suddenly get caught in the middle of racial Asian discrimination? I'm worried that I'll get into a habit while walking like this.

나도 역시 꼰대였다

 꼰대 부모 밑에서 자란 아이가 환경적으로 꼰대가 될 수밖에 없단다. 꼰대 짓을 전혀 하지 않았던 친정아버지를 닮은 나는 꼰대와는 상관없는 사람이라고 확신하며 살았다. 주위에 꼰대 짓하는 사람을 보면 아예 못 들은 척 대꾸하지 않거나 딴소리 하다가 자리를 뜨곤 했다. 

 ‘누구나 어떤 형태로든 꼰대의 기질은 내재해 있다. 꼰대의 특징은 무조건 자기가 맞다고 주장하며 남의 말을 인정하지 않는다. 지나간 이야기를 많이 한다. 자기 자랑을 많이 한다. 물어보지도 않았는데 충고한다.’는 등 인터넷에 떠도는 이야기를 접하고는 나 또한 그런 부류의 행동이 없었을까 곰곰이 생각했다. 

 전혀 꼰대 짓을 하지 않고 조용히 살며 엄청 건강을 챙기는 친언니가 있다. 그녀가 나에게 부탁도 하지 않았는데 백신 예약을 해주겠다고 했다. 그런데 그다지 반가워하지 않고 백신을 맞고 싶지도 않다는 투다. 

“한 사람이라도 빨리 주사를 맞는 것이 이웃을 사랑하는 거예요.” 

잘났다고 나는 언니에게 충고하며 꼰대 짓 했다. 그로부터 2주 후, 내 글이 신문에 나오는 날 언니와 다시 통화했다. 

“맞았어요?” 

“아니” 

“왜 맞지 않는데. 무슨 사연이 있는 거야?” 

“나 인침 맞으려고.” 

“인침이 뭐야?” 

“하나님이 주시는 주사.” 

언니는 요한계시록을 늘어놓으며 코로나 백신과 666이 어쩌고저쩌고. The Epoch Times에서 얻어들은 이야기를 열거하면서 평상시와는 달리 방언하듯 내가 알아듣지 못하는 능변을 토했다. 

“언니, The Epoch Times 혹시 파룬궁에 소속된 언론사 아니야?” 

“아니.” 

더 말 해봤자 먹혀들어 갈 틈이 없다는 것을 느꼈다. 언니에게 인침을 놔 주신다는 하나님이 계시는데 내가 왜 걱정하며 꼰대 짓을 했던고. 잠시 깜빡했다. 무척 후회했다. 

 ‘꼰대들의 행동이 의욕을 떨어트리고, 꼰대로 인해 발생하는 조직의 손해를 꼰대 비용이라고 한단다. 꼰대가 우리 사회에 끼치는 손실은 막대한 상황이란다.’ 

언니에게 꼰대 짓을 하다가 자매간의 의욕이 떨어졌고 꼰대 짓을 왜 했던고 후회하느라 정신적으로 손실을 봤다. 앞으로는 인침을 맞던 백신을 맞던 강 건너 불구경하듯 입을 다물어야겠다.

I was a kkondae, too

They say that a child who grows up with a strict, old-fashioned parent naturally becomes the same way. I always believed I was nothing like that. My own father never acted like a “kkondae” (a Korean word for an older person who forces their outdated ideas on others), and I took after him. I was sure I wasn’t that kind of person. When I saw someone acting like a kkondae, I would ignore them or walk away without saying anything.

But then I read something online:

“Everyone has a bit of kkondae inside them. A kkondae always thinks they are right and doesn’t listen to others. They talk too much about the past, brag about themselves, and give advice that no one asked for.”

That made me think—have I ever acted like that too?

I have an older sister who is very quiet, never interferes with others, and takes really good care of her health. One day, even though she didn’t ask me for help, I told her I would book her a COVID vaccine appointment. But she didn’t seem happy about it. She even said she didn’t really want to get the shot. I told her,

“Getting vaccinated helps protect others. It’s an act of love for your neighbors.”

I said it like I knew better. I was giving her advice—and realized later that I was being a kkondae.

Two weeks later, the day my writing was published in a newspaper, I talked to her again.

“Did you get the shot?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Why not? Is there a reason?”

“I’m waiting for the seal,” she replied.

“The seal? What’s that?”

“The injection that comes from God.”

She started talking about the Book of Revelation, and said things about COVID vaccines and the number 666. She spoke like she was preaching, full of energy, saying things she had read in The Epoch Times. I couldn’t really follow what she was saying—it was like she was speaking in tongues. I asked,

“Isn’t The Epoch Times connected to Falun Gong?”

She answered,

“No.”

At that moment, I realized that no matter what I said, she wouldn’t listen. She believed God would give her the shot himself. Why did I worry and try to act like I knew best? Why did I act like a kkondae? I regretted it.

I read that “kkondae behavior makes people lose motivation, and the damage they cause in organizations is sometimes called the kkondae cost. It means the harm they do to society is serious.”

By acting like a kkondae to my sister, I discouraged her, and I felt regret and emotional stress. That was my own kkondae cost. From now on, whether someone wants a vaccine or the seal from God, I will keep my mouth shut and stay out of it—like watching a fire from across the river.

갈림길에 서 있는 뱃살

 오랫동안 세상을 등지고 산속에 살던 사람이 세속에 나와서 거리에 넘쳐나는 뚱뚱한 사람들을 보고 놀라는 장면을 영화에서 본 적이 있다. 내가 옛날 필름 속의 날씬한 사람들과 요즘 미국 사람들의 몸매를 비교하며 의아해하듯이. 예전 사람들의 몸매는 옷과 몸 사이에 여분이 있고 각진 몸매였다. 몸이 밖으로 부풀지 않고 안으로 여유롭게 패인 듯 매력적이다. 가는 몸으로 행동하며 말하는 모습은 꽤 로맨틱하다. 

 나는 뱃살을 부풀리지 않으려고 노력했다. 하지만 팬더믹 동안 일단 살고 보자며 부지런히 먹고 늘어졌더니 두부 한모가 배에 그리고 양쪽 옆구리에 반 모씩 붙었다. 이제 여행 가서 수영복을 입고 몸매를 드러낼 날이 다가온다. 늘어난 살들을 자꾸 거울에 비춰보며 먹자마자 늘어졌던 지난날들이 후회스럽다. 

 동양인이 타깃으로 길거리에서 얻어터지는 바람에 뒤에서 발소리만 나도 뒤를 힐끔힐끔 보다가 빙판에 두 번이나 넘어졌다. 창피하다고 급히 일어날 생각도 없이 잠깐 그대로 앉아서 생각했다. ‘내가 왜 이렇게 됐단 말인가?’ 

 그나마 다행인 것이 그리도 혐오했던 나의 살찐 엉덩이가 나를 살렸다. 내 몸은 빈약한 상체에서 내려오다 비만인 하체와 만나는 긴 허리 덕분에 나이 들어서도 가느다란 허리선을 유지는 하고 있다. 그러나 아래로 내려갈수록 상체와는 대조적으로 굵다. 게다가 살찐 히프가 쳐졌다. 평생 나는 내 히프를 구박했다. 그런데 두 번 넘어졌는데도 거뜬히 일어날 수 있었다. 그렇게도 혐오했던 살찐 엉덩이가 쿠션 역활을 할 줄이야! 

 내가 또 구박하는 처진 팔뚝과 뱃살을 만지며 이 살들도 앞으로 써먹을 때가 있을까? 써먹을 때가 전혀 없을 것 같다. 그래도 누가 알랴 너무 미워하지 말아야지. 살다 보면 나빴던 것이 좋아지고 좋았던 것이 나빠짐을 경험한다. 함부로 나쁘다 좋다를 단정하며 복을 걷어찰 일이 아니다. 

 나이 들어 살집이 있는 것이 낫다고들 하지만, 쓸데없는 것이 딱 달라붙어 나를 따라다녀서 몸이 예전처럼 가뿐하지가 않다. 삼십분간 먹고 즐기며 늘어지는 것은 삼분처럼 느껴지고, 뱃살을 빼기 위해 삼십 분 하는 운동은 세시간처럼 길게 느껴져서 점점 지쳐간다. 

 생긴 대로 뱃살을 껴안고 살까? 아니면 운동을 계속해서 빼는 데까지는 빼 볼까? 갈림길에 서 있다.

The belly fat standing at a crossroads

 I have seen in the movie a scene where people who lived in the mountains with one’s back to the world for a long time are surprised to see the fat people overflowing the streets. Just as I am puzzled by comparing the slim people in the old films to the bodies of Americans these days. In the past, people's bodies were angular, with extras between clothes and bodies. It is attractive as if the body is relaxed inside without inflating out. It's quite romantic to talk while acting with a thin body. 

 I tried not to inflate my belly fat. However, during the pandemic, I diligently ate. A block of bean curd stuck to my stomach and the half of bean curd stuck to both sides. Now, the day is approaching when I go on a trip and show my body in a swimsuit. I regret the past days when I ate a lot by looking at the stretched flesh in the mirror. 

 As Asians were hit on the street as targets, I fell twice on the ice while glancing back at the sound of footsteps from behind. I sat down and thought for a moment without rushing to get up because I was embarrassed. Why did I become like this? 

 Fortunately, my fat butt which I hated so much, saved me. My body descends from my poor upper body and maintains a slender waistline even when I get older thanks to the long waist that meets the obese lower body. However, as it goes down, it is thicker in contrast to the upper body. All my life, I've been hating the butt. But even though I fell twice, I was able to get up. I didn't expect the fat butt I hated to act as a cushion! 

 Will there be times when I will use the sagging forearms and belly fat? There seems to be no chance to use it. Still, who knows, I shouldn't hate them too much. In life, the bad things get better and the good things get worse. It is not a matter of recklessly deciding whether to be bad or not and kicking the blessing. 

 It is said that it is better to gain weight in old age, but the useless things stick to me, so my body is not as light as it used to be. Eating and enjoying thirty minutes feels like three minutes. Exercising for thirty minutes to lose belly fat feels like three hours, so I get tired. 

 Do I want to live with my belly fat? Or should I keep losing my exercise? I stand at a crossroads.